Page 157 of Falling in Reverse

“Put pressure on it.” I steal a look through his navy-blue shirt, which now looks black and wet. “Judah, let me?—”

“I didn’t want to kill you, Bay…but you’ll either ruin us all or be ruined. I’d rather save you from that.”

“What are you fuckin’ talking about?” I snap. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re too fucking…dangerous.” He lets out a rattled exhale, and it scares me. “Matteo will either break you…or kill you. I would’ve possibly—” He bows forward, holding onto his side as he does. “My brother…he’s young…tell him…”

I open my mouth to order him to shut up, that I’m not going to let him die here, but he falls face forward to the ground with a finishing thud.

I wait for movement, holding my next exhale so I don’t miss it.

He doesn’t.

I hold on for another second before whispering his name.

Still nothing but the surrounding crickets taunting me that I just…that I just killed him?

“Judah?” The deathly silence of the night around us sets my hair on end and my whole body begins to tremble at the aftershock of what I’ve just done.

I killed someone.

“Wake up,” I demand as sternly as I can as if that’s going to do anything at all. “Judah, please.” I kick lightly at his bicep. “Judah!”

“He’s dead, sweetheart.” I quickly whip around at the new voice that just hit my spine, almost tripping over my own feet to find Matteo stepping out between two trees. His black jeans and shirt hug his body matching his darkened features along the shadows of the trees. “You stuck him good.”

“He tried to hurt me,” I pant, pointing at him with my bloody knife still clutched in my palm. “He?—”

“I saw,” he deadpans, reaching me and leaving a foot between us. His square jaw poses no bullshit, a seventeen-year-old boy who wants more in this life than poverty and hard times. His tanned skin and endless pools of deep brown stare down at me with zero emotion in his features. “I heard everything.”

I stare at him, a million and one things crashing and bumping into each other at the same time. “You didn’t…you didn’t save me.”

Matteo raises his hand, his bronze Beretta locked between his fingers and palm. “I was ready.”

My body begins to shake on cue, the aftermath of what I just did slithering through my veins. “What do I do? Should I call the police and—” Matteo scoffs dismissively and pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly to his hard chest. Weed and tequila come off the fabric of his clothes, but his hold somewhat settles some of my wrecked nerves.

“I got this,” he promises me, and he doesn’t slur his words but holds that authority like he always does when he speaks to his posse. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay?”

I turn to look at Judah again, an overwhelming need to check on him one more time taking over me.

This has to be a nightmare.

I killed Judah.

I freaking murdered Judah.

Matteo’s hand grips the side of my head gently, heaving my cheek to his chest when three gunshots ring out viciously next to my ear, making me jump out of my skin and yelp out loud.

“Jud—”

“C’mon, babe,” Matteo orders then. “Let me get you home.”

He shot Judah.

“Matteo, he needs an ambulance. You just—what are you gonna—” He gives me a small shake, as though that’s going to get this whole night to disappear from my brain.

“I got it. I got you, Bay Astor. And I’m going to take such good care of you that no one is ever going to do that again. You’re mine. And you’re it forever.”

FORTY

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